The Man Who Stole Hearts In Ibadan Ended Up Breaking One

I remember how tired I was when I traveled by train that afternoon despite the heavy rain that came upon the unfortunate city of Ibadan.

“Be wary of those Ibadan men oo; don’t let them deceive you. They don’t know how to love or keep good things.”

That was what she told me.

Ah! I wish I had listened to Aunty Sade.

I should’ve listened to the voice of an elderly woman who had seen shege in the hands of not just Ibadan men but also Ota, Mushin, and Akoka men.

Olatunji was no different. All he knew how to do was open my legs every night, after opening other women’s legs by day.

The signs were always there. Na me no just get sense.

***

“Hello Miss. What do you make of your trip to my beautiful hometown?” He said to me at the station upon arrival.

I ignored him at first, because I was upset about the rain, but I decided to reply to him.

“Your hometown? My first impression of it so far is very poor. My only hope is that something good comes out of it at the end of the day.”

“And I will make sure of that. You’ve got the right one.” He said proudly.

There was something about him that irritated me in that moment, but I realized he wasn’t my problem.

Three days into my Ibadan stay, I decided to lower my guard and let Olatunji in. I did that because I needed an Ibadan companion and a tour guide; I assumed he was pretty decent for the job.

He took me to a very nice restaurant where we were eventually joined by three of his colleagues…

"So you're the Fola babe Tuntun has been talking about? You're even more beautiful than he described," one of them, Seyi, said.

I was flattered.

What could he have said to them? We just met. I could only wonder.

"This my guy likes you very much. How long are you here for?' Another joined in.

"Guys, guys, let's go easy on her." The third one came to the rescue.

While I was sitting there feeling overwhelmed, Olatunji appeared indifferent to the ongoing drama.

Alas, it was time to return to my hotel room, and he accompanied me.

“I guess you had fun tonight.” He said to me when we got to the door. “Are we still up for tomorrow?”

I smiled.

“I most definitely did, thank you.” I studied his face. “However, I’d appreciate it if you saved me next time in such a precarious situation.”

He looked at me with regrets in his eyes.

“I apologize for my friends’ behavior tonight. They were being silly, and you’re right, I should’ve intervened on your behalf.”

There was something about the way he sounded that appeared sincere. For a moment, I stared into his eyes, and there was a way he beheld mine that sent shivers down my spine. It was daring, intentional, desperate, and wanting. I began to question certain principles I held dearly onto.

“Would you like to come inside?”

I hadn’t realized when the words came out of my mouth.

“I don’t mind spending the night with you…”

He said as he quickly grabbed me by the waist and began kissing me with an urgent desire I hadn’t detected in him but couldn’t deny I felt inside of me as well. He pushed the door open, nudging me inside whilst maintaining a strong hold on me, and shut it back with a gravity that notified my body of the incoming pleasure it would face that night. Sweet, memorable pleasure.

Then I felt his hand go down on me, feeling my wetness.

“You’re so wet I want to eat you up!”

A flush of embarrassment washed over me, and he noticed it.

“You don’t need to be shy; be comfortable with me.”

***

That was what he always said to me. I was such a fool to believe a professional playboy over my instincts.

My instincts screamed: Stay away from this too-good-to-be-true Ibadan man... While my heart screamed: You may be wrong about him. Aunty Sade’s experience is not yours; have fun.

And what did I do? I listened to my stupid heart like a goat that doesn’t leave when you chase it.

Occasionally, he’d ask me for money. Olatunji always had financial emergencies I never questioned… I rolled with everything he said.

Who could’ve thought that Olatunji’s so-called ‘sister' was his side chick? Or that his ‘mother’ was his sugar mommy? Or worse, that his ‘cousin’ was the next-door neighbor he fucked every Saturday?

Yes! Olatunji wasn’t only a master manipulator; he was exceptionally skillful in his dealings with these women, such that he had a schedule for all of us. I was his ‘Thursday-to-Friday’ schedule.

So, while he made me think he was working other days, all he was really doing was ‘working the other schedules.'

I could only imagine how many more women were out there that I didn’t know about.

When I found out about his casanova and swindler lifestyle via a website where other women shared their experiences, I rang his phone immediately to confront him, but he blatantly denied ever knowing me...

***

“Listen to me." A woman’s voice took over the call. “Ola is my husband; we have 3 children, and I’m currently eight months pregnant. You better stop calling his phone and search elsewhere for who you’re looking for.”

She said and hung up on me. I had never felt so humiliated before.

It sounded almost as if… they were in on it together, and she was very much aware of his double life.

I remember falling to the ground in Bodija market, Ibadan, rolling and crying like a woman in despair, because I really was.

“Dide ki o dekun didamu ara re!” (Meaning: Get up and stop embarrassing yourself!).

An elderly woman shouted at me.

Next thing I know, a crowd formed around me—everyone was judging me and speaking in their dialect while I picked myself up and walked on, crying. 

No taxi stopped for me, as they all thought I was a mad woman, considering my appearance…

***

You see, Olatunji didn’t just break my heart, collect money from me under false pretenses, play me so bad, or embarrass me. No. He broke a piece of me that I could never recover. A piece of me that wished I had listened to the voice of wisdom—Aunty Sade.

Finally, it is with a heavy heart, the unwavering support of my ancestors, and the curse that lies beneath Nigeria that I say:

“Olatunji, if you can read this, I want you to know that it will never be well with you. All the men in Ibadan will break your children’s hearts like you broke mine.”